Wendy woke lying on her back still dressed in her tennis outfit. She suddenly sat up in the bed and looked around as if to see if her attackers were still there. She looked to the side of the bed and stared at the naked back of Dylan speaking into the phone.
".... just have the card say 'Look forward to another set'. Yes, ma'am, charge to my room. I will take care of it when we check out. Thank you, ma'am." Dylan set the phone down in the receiver and absent-mindedly rubbed his sore ribs. He took the punches okay, but he was still tender.
He turned to look at his mother as she was sitting there staring in disbelief at him. He gave her a tender smile, the smile of a son looking at his mother after she had been in an ordeal.
"How are you feeling, mom? I hope you are okay, you had me worried there for a while," he asked her. He reached out and touched her hand feeling the softness under his touch.
"I am fine, baby. How are you doing?" she replied.
"I am doing great mom. I am getting hungry. I didn't have any lunch. You wouldn't happen to have a Power bar in your bag or anything, would ya'", he asked.
"Honey, that is not what I meant. What you did was a noble thing. I can't believe those guys were such jerks. If it had not been for....", she began to tear up in her eyes but she was cut off by Dylan before she could finish.
"Mom, everything is okay. Don't worry. I am just happy I was there for you. I told you that I loved you and there was nothing that I wouldn't do for you," he stated.
They sat there and talked about what Wendy had done before the incident happen. She explained to Dylan about the flirting. She was speaking to him not as mother to son, but to an equal. She told him how she didn't mean for it to go that far but she was always that way. She was a flirt and she knew it. It was just this time it went too far. She then told Dylan about the events in the locker room office and how she tried to get away. She began to tear up again as she told him about the way she looked up and there was Dylan standing in the door. She shook with fear and rage as she recounted how the fight went from her perspective of her view on the floor and how Dylan and utterly destroyed her two attackers.
By the time Wendy had finished her story, Dylan had wrapped his arms around his mother and was holding her close. She was slightly sobbing in his arms as she finished her story. He could feel her hot tears on his bare chest as he held her. Her chest was rising and falling against him and he could feel the material of her outfit rubbing against his bare nipples.
He gently kissed his mother on the top of her head as he let her cry to the details of her near rape. Occasionally, he would look down and he got an unobstructed view down the top of his mother's top and could see the tanned swell of her breasts. He would try to look away when he realized that he was staring at his mom's tits. These were the same breasts that nursed him and his sisters. Even though he was trying to console his crying mom, he kept looking down her top at her magnificent breasts. When he realized he was starting to get hard he tried to think of anything and everything he could to take his mind off his mother and her breasts. He went through his martial arts forms from white belt to black belt, his sparring drills, even his wrestling moves to take his mind off. It wasn't working as his mother continued to sob lightly in his arms.
Wendy was uncomfortable in the position she was sitting. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy the warmth of her son; it was just the angle her body was in that made it difficult. Dylan laid back on the bed to let her finish crying in somewhat comfort. She shifted her body around until she was leaning on Dylan's chest and took one arm and placed it behind him. This allowed her to turn and face Dylan but kept her head buried on his strong chest. She placed her leg on his thigh and snuggled closer to him and closed her eyes again.
Her other hand had crept to Dylan's abdomen and absently ran along his defined muscles. She opened her eyes and saw the rippled muscles under the skin. She again closed her eyes and snuggled closer to her strong son. Wendy was a slut through and through but she was having feelings for her son without her head being involved. She knew she was wrong but Dylan had saved her like his father had done many years ago and she knew how that ended. She was addicted to strong and rough men. After the fight she saw her son in a different light than before. He was no longer a boy and her son, he was a man. A ruggedly handsome man, strong and rough when needed and tender when required.
Running her hand along his stomach was having a different reaction to her body than she intended. She knew in her mind it was wrong but her body failed to recognize the wrongness of what she was doing. Wendy was beginning to get turned on lying against her sexy son. Even with what she had been through, nearly raped and then in a fight to save herself and her son, she could feel the telltale beginning of arousal. Her pussy was beginning to cream as she felt the warmth and raw muscles of the man, not her son, under her body.
She continued to run her hand along his stomach and to his chest and back again. As she unconsciously moved her body to snuggle closer to her son, her hand pushed against his thigh. As she brought her hand up to his stomach she accidentally grazed his swollen cock. She felt him slightly jerk as her finger gently touched his cock. Without making Dylan realize that she was looking, out of the corner of her eye she looked down and had to fight from gawking at the hardened cock in his Speedo swim suit.